Joy in the Valley

Second in a series reflecting on life journeying with my wife's mom during her battle with cancer.

The valley may hide joy, but its still there for the finding.

It was the night before Grammy died, and my wife, kids and I were sitting on our bed doing night-time prayers.  Most evenings we ask if there was a yucky or least-favourite part of the day.  Then after sharing, we tell about our favorite parts.  Once done, prayers flow easily.

On that night, I’d just returned home from a weekend conference.  This was our first chance n a few days to sit around and catch up.

“What was your least favourite, your yuckiest, part of the day?” I asked.

“Grammy being sick.” Both kids agreed, not surprisingly.  Grammy had been staying with us for a couple of weeks now, and her fight with cancer had regularly surfaced in these evening wrap-ups.

“Yeah, that’s a good one,” I said before continuing, “So what about your favourite?”

“Daddy coming home!” they both squeeled as they fell into me.  I felt like a million bucks and tickled them just to hear their giggles. Then we prayed.  In those few moments, on the eve of a very difficult day, there was joy.

It happened again the next day as we sat around with what was left of Grammy.  She had gone to be with God after a valiant fight and now a shadow of her lay in the center of our circle. We were crying as we felt a mixture of sadness, loss and relief.

“What will you miss most about Grammy?” I asked.

Then we started telling stories of a Grammy who could do handstands and cartwheels, who had a little gift for each one most times she came over, who loved glitz and sparkles and inspired my daughter in her love of the same.  We smiled, then laughed, as we shared stories about her.  Then someone said, 

“I’m going to miss you Grammy,” and the tears returned to do their work.

There is joy in the valley.  Its not there to take away the struggle or the pain, but as a gift of strength so we can press through.  I think that’s what Nehemiah meant when he said, “And the joy of the Lord will be your strength. (Nehemiah 8:10)”  Maybe this is why the New Testament writer, Paul, wrote “Rejoice – and again I say, rejoice! (Philippians 4:8)”

Its hard advice to follow when the darkness is so thick I can’t see my hand in front of my face. In Philippians, Paul goes on to invite us to keep our minds fixed on whatever is pleasing, honorable, just, commendable, excellent or worthy of saying “good job.”  This is the path of finding joy.

On the last worship service of that weekend conference, we were encouraged to begin listing the things we were thankful for, and to be specific. I wondered what I would write, but then the image of the first robin of spring came to mind, and of the feeling of the breeze on my skin during a walk earlier that day.  Then the way the leaves had made the light seem to dance, and the voice of my daughter singing, and my little guy’s smile, and …  well, you get the point.

Maybe we need to search for joy, to look for those things that are beautiful in the darkness.  But when we do, I believe we’ll find the strength we need to press through.  What a gift!